


Just Because

by quicksparrows



Series: Side by Side – Chrobin [12]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Chrobin Week 2018, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: Ada visits Chrom's office to deliver a couple gifts.





	Just Because

**Author's Note:**

> For [Chrobin Week 2018](http://chrobinweek.tumblr.com/post/178004714643/welcome-to-chrobin-week-2018), day one: Celebration.

.

 

Ada knocks. Chrom calls out: _Yes?_ The door opens to her at the hands of the guard, and Chrom looks up from his desk. She has the distinct pleasure of watching a smile blossom on his face when their eyes meet, and he says, low and happy: "Ada."

"Working late, I see," she says.

"Just a little longer," he says. He's bent over a piece of parchment, and the quill isn't even in his hands. She rounds his desk to press a kiss to his cheek, and as she draws away she looks down at the page –– he's written what must be a speech. "I can't come up with anything good."

"Is this the speech for the Feroxi dinner party?"

Chrom exhales deeply, leaning back in a way that has him pressing his head against her arm.

"Write it for me?" he suggests. He turns on those warm, friendly eyes, fixed on her like a charm.

"Not a chance," she says. "You can practice on me tonight, though."

Chrom gives a groan that turns into a laugh: "No! I'm going to write it and be done with it. What brings down here? I haven't been at this _that_ long."

Ada smiles and turns to face him better, leaning against the edge of his desk. She pulls a small package from her pocket and she watches his eyes follow it as she holds it up for him.

"What is this?" he asks.

His wonder is a little cute –– Ada is not prone to bringing things home with wrapping, and his birthday this year has come and gone. She can almost see him mentally checking off holidays, sure he hasn't missed a single one, and he comes up empty-handed. There is no occasion. There's just a parcel in her hands.

"I went into town with Maribelle today and thought you'd like something," she says. "Just because."

She places it in front of him; it's perhaps the most understated gift Chrom has ever received, wrapped in earthy brown paper and knotted twine, a freshly plucked flower nestled in the bow.

"This isn't, ah... _private_ , is it?" he asks. He nods his head in the direction of the guard at the door, who diligently faces away from them. "Should I wait until we're alone?"

"Please, I wouldn't embarrass you like that more than once," she says, pleasantly. "Open it."

Chrom chuckles, pulling the parcel closer. He gives the twine a tug but it's knotted well, so he reaches for his desk drawer. Ada lifts her knees just enough for him to scoot underneath, and he produces a pocketknife from the depths before sliding the drawer closed again. He smiles at her and she smiles back. He cuts the twine with one sharp tug against his thumb.

"I can't even imagine what this is," he says as he unfolds the paper.

He opens the last layer of paper. Inside are new gloves, arranged neatly, thumbs folded over. The lambskin is dyed a brilliant blue, and the stitching is pristine white. Chrom picks one up and runs it between his palms.

"Your other casual one was starting to look a little rough," she says. "I thought you'd like new ones to beat up."

"Very much so," he says. He pulls a glove out. The palms are padded to better survive his grip on Falchion. "Tapered fingers and everything. Thank you."

She nods.

"You're welcome."

He looks down at the gloves.

She's not sure how she expected him to react, and though she knows he is grateful, for a brief moment she feels the pointlessness of buying something for the man who has everything –– what she thought would be a nice gesture a couple hours ago now feels hollow, even absurd. He could get a million pairs of gloves from the tailors. _You're found in a field by a prince, and he marries you, makes you a queen, and then anything you might give him beyond yourself is bought with his coin, his name, his legacy._

"There's not many material things I can get you," she says. It feels a little bit like a confession: _I have nothing to give you._

He squeezes her knee.

"My love," he says. "They're beautiful, and I'll wear them until there are new holes in the palms. But you don't _need_ to get me things."

Ada smiles a little, and he smiles, too. He slides his hands up her thighs, to her hips, as if he might drag her off the edge of the desk and into his lap. His grip is secure, and there's some comfort in that.

"You're more than enough on your own," he says.

"Well, then, there's more," she says.

"Oh?"

He raises his eyebrows at her, and she bends over to kiss him properly. Chrom draws himself up taller in his seat to meet her, and Ada leans into that kiss so far he might as well be holding her up. Her hands find his cheeks, and when they break apart, she thumbs his skin. He has the slightest bit of stubble, and she likes the tickle of it on her hands.

"Well," he says. "You're welcome to celebrate _just because_ every single day, you know. Every hour, even. Don't even leave my office; nobody else will like it, but just ignore them."

She laughs, leaning her forehead against his.

"Okay," she says.

 

 


End file.
